Determination
by TheDragonLover
Summary: A collection of oneshots named after the first chapter. Just snippets of the daily lives of the villagers in Alvarna.
1. Determination

_Yes, this is in the format of the game Rune Factory 2. Meaning thoughts are in parenthesis, Wooly is Wooly, not wooly, Aria is the female child and Aaron is the male child (although only Aria is mentioned in this), and the world is made of awesomeness. Any questions?_

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Rune Factory 2, you would have seen more of Barrett, Jake, Orland, Roy, and several other characters. Oh, and the tamed monsters wouldn't be so stupid. But we don't, and they are, aren't they? That's proof enough.

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Aquamarine eyes flickered over the classroom in annoyance. Orland had just stepped through the door, and already the school was filled with the chatter of the other two there. He was fast approaching a headache, and he hadn't even a chance to sit down yet. He approached the front of the classroom in silence and took the seat he frequently chose every week, quietly taking out his paper, quill, and ink as he absentmindedly listened to Leann and Leonel.

"Oh, Leonel! You don't eat chocolate cake in the morning! That's for desert!"

"But, I was hungry! And I can't make pancakes . . ."

"But that's not a healthy breakfast! If anything, you could ask Aria if she can make you some!"

"I haven't seen her all morning . . . She's normally the first one here."

"Hm, that's odd. I wonder what she's up to?""Alright!" Mana's voice rose over the kids' as she tapped her desk with a ruler. "Let's begin the class!" They quickly took to their seats and fidgeted anxiously before her stern stare silenced them. Then, her beautiful smile illuminated her face as she started to instruct them on how to make sashimi out of some common fish.

Although Orland copied the diagrams perfectly, he did so like a machine and paid no attention to her words. His hand rose to flick his short blonde hair out of his face while his attention wandered around the room. It settled on the open window letting in a fresh spring breeze, and he watched as a bumblebee hovered over a flower tentatively before landing and collecting its spoils. It traveled to other flowers in this manner, joining a cautious dance the other worker bees participated in over the petals.

He could relate to the bumblebee as it busied itself with its work; it was commanded by the queen bee to go out and find the materials necessary to make honey, and yet it took its time leisurely as it drifted ever so slowly on the wind. It worked and worked hard, but at its own pace, and yet it always seemed to be so much more productive than the other insects of the animal world. He figured the Hornets and Queen Bees in the Valley were just the same, although at his age he had never gone there himself, and so he spent his time daydreaming about how the two similar insects' daily lives must be like - always buzzing around and defending its home and honey from invaders.

(What lucky creatures,) he thought bitterly. (They don't have to sit in a school and learn meaningless things. They get to experience life for themselves!) He sighed and left the bumblebee alone as his eyes returned to the board to copy the next diagram, his mind focused on the task at hand but his heart still with the worker bee, collecting pollen to satisfy the queen bee's urgings.

Well into the class, however, he realized with alarm that he could smell smoke. He leapt to his feet just as the others started to shout fearfully, and he followed Mana into the kitchen to see a familiar redhead waving at the smoke billowing from the frying pan. Something charred and rather grotesque looking sat in the pan, and after it was disposed of properly and the smell was beginning to be aired out, Aria sheepishly explained that it was a failed attempt at cooking.

"I'm sorry I interrupted class," she apologized. "I was trying to fry something, and, well . . ."

"It's alright." Mana patted her daughter's head caringly, giving her a smile to show she was forgiven. "Just be careful next time, okay? And if you need any help, you can always ask someone to join you in the kitchen!"

After nodding awkwardly, Aria watched them all in embarrassment as they exited the kitchen to return to their classwork - everyone except Orland. His expression was blank, but he was eyeing the pan intently as she started to scrub the burnt bits off of it in the sink. A bit of time passed as silence engulfed the right wing of the school once more. The cloth was frothing with bubbles, momentarily reminding him of a Wooly before Aria washed the soap off of it and the pan. It was only when she put the pan up and turned around that she seemed to notice he was still there, jumping as if not expecting him to be behind her (he found it strange that she didn't notice his presence, but pinned it on her being human).

"Oh!" She rubbed the back of her head, looking rather flustered and annoyed to have been surprised. "Um, what is it, Orland?"

"What were you cooking?" It was a simple question he only wanted the answer to, so it puzzled him when her face turned an interesting shade of red. (Is it another human thing?)

"Ah, well, I was trying to cook a mackerel, but . . ." She took a quick glance in the trash bin and grimaced. "I don't know what I made."

"It looked like a brick of soot," he offered, further puzzled at her red face glowing a darker shade. Ignoring it for the time being, he pursed his lips in deep thought before finally mentioning casually, just to see her reaction, "I like fried mackerel."

She nodded, her mouth imitating his as she blinked curiously. "Yeah . . . I know." She moved a lock of hair behind her ears before her hands clasped together in front of her. She looked rather interested in the thoughtful expression on his face, and he quickly exchanged it for his indifferent mask and shrugged.

"Just thought you might have forgotten . . . being a human."

He then turned on his heels and strode elegantly out of the kitchen, but his ears were well tuned to pick up her mumbling to herself, "Now, to try this again . . ." Finding her determination admirable, he then put his attention to the new diagram on the board as he took his seat and easily caught up to the rest of the class. He wasn't challenged by this class at all, and he could hardly wait for Barrett's lessons on forging weapons and armor.

As he took more notes, his gaze drifted momentarily to the window once more, catching sight of a bumblebee taking one last dip in the flower before sluggishly lifting off and heading towards another, determined to please its queen.

(Determination . . . What an admirable trait.)


	2. Freedom

_Yes, I abandoned the silly way that the game writes things, because it was too strange for me to remember off of the top of my head. Here's the next chapter, written normally, thank you._

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Rune Factory 2, you would have seen more of Barrett, Jake, Orland, Roy, and several other characters. Oh, and the tamed monsters wouldn't be so stupid. But we don't, and they are, aren't they? That's proof enough.

_

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_

The blond took a deep, relaxing breath to release all of the pent up tension he had withheld all day. With all of the extravagant feasts and parties designed to show-off the de Sainte-Coquille family's generosity, Max barely had any time to himself during the hot summer days–that is, unless he slipped away from it all and made it to his private quarters without getting caught. Thoroughly enjoying how the walls muffled the noisy guests from downstairs, he slumped his shoulders and inhaled deeply, rather weary of the lengths the rich had to go to keep money in their pockets. _Honestly,_ he huffed to an imaginary nobleman with her nose pointing towards the ceiling, _if I didn't know any better, I'd call them _vultures_ instead of houseguests. I've seen _Jake_ with a friendlier expression before._

He strode across the room intent on falling into his luxurious bed when something glinting on the wall gave him pause. He turned and caught sight of the tattered sheath mounted proudly there, hinting to a practice of swordplay harsher than the average wealthy man's fencing. Staring at the hint of metal shining with the candlelight, he smiled faintly as he remembered the merchant he had haggled with to acquire it–she was very difficult to bargain with, since the item in question was a part of her culture. The sword came from her homeland, as did her sky blue dress, or "kimono" as she had called it, and she wouldn't hand it over to simply anyone with a jingle in their pocket. It had taken a lot of coaxing to pry her hands from the sheath, as well as reassurances that he wouldn't mishandle the weapon. _A lot of effort for a sword, but worth it in the end._

Strolling over and carefully withdrawing it from its sheath, Max examined the fine blade and toyed with the idea of taking a few swings with it. _Father would _not_ approve._ For some reason, that made the urge to do so that much greater, and he grinned childishly as if he was stealing from the cookie jar as he neatly jabbed the air. It was an awkward maneuver, further proof that fencing simply wouldn't do for this raw weapon. _It was made to _dismember_ its opponents, not to tickle their sides until they cried "uncle." That, I can respect._ He figured Tanya would have a blast with the blade, and he jokingly thought about showing it to the weapons-smith. _Then again, I might not get it back afterwards. _He sliced an "x" into the air, chuckling madly with glee before catching himself, eyes widening in horror._ Dear God, I do believe I'm going insane._

Disturbed by his sudden outburst, he quickly sheathed the sword and replaced it on its pedestal, admiring how snug the fit was and taking a step back in respect as he was tempted to bow to it. He snorted at the idea, his mild-arrogance swelling at the insult to his image as he mumbled, "I do not bow to _anyone._" Satisfied with his established importance, he proceeded to imitate what he had done before with an imaginary blade, closing his eyes to create a fanciful image of daring monsters in his room that he quickly slashed to ribbons. Indulging in his childish game of pretend for a while, he was disturbed from his enjoyment by a tentative knock on his door. Glaring at the remnants of the monsters that melted away to reality, as if warning them "next time," he calmly strolled across the room and opened the door to find his irritated sister standing before him, arms folded as she gave a huff to display her displeasure.

"Max, _what_ exactly are you doing in your room?"

He gave a lazy shrug as a playful grin slipped onto his face. "Slaying monsters," he teased, knowing how frustrated she was by his disinterest in their family's parties, and was rewarded with her annoyed groan before she grabbed his sleeve and dragged him behind her. "Now, Rosalind, I don't doubt you and Father's capability in dealing with these . . ." He searched for a word he could manage to spit past his intense loathing without earning himself a slap in punishment. ". . . guests. Can't you leave me out of this?"

She shook her head, effectively sinking his hopes in a smooth getaway as she argued, "The entire family has to be present for these things, and, believe it or not, you count_._ Now stop being difficult and _come on._" She ignored his reluctant sigh as she pulled him out into the front hall where the visitors mingled, and she gave him a stern push towards the stairs and stood between him and the private quarters. "Don't think of sneaking away again, either."

He sighed again, knowing by the look on her face that Rosalind wasn't going to let him laze about while she and Father worked hard to entertain their guests, and he quickly pulled up a welcoming mask to hide the resentment he felt towards everyone in the room. "Oh, good evening! My, that brooch looks _fascinating_ . . ." As he immersed himself in the pointless chatter of the wealthy men and women, he secretly plotted his next escape, desperate for the freedom that came with an empty room and a singing blade.


	3. Our Secret

_Oh, I forgot to add as a note to the first chapter: Orland is on the character list for the Rune Factory category because I submitted him and the other second gen characters to the staff. Just a bit of trivia for those who care._

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The soft sound of calm, measured footsteps crunching through the fallen leaves was echoed by another pair as Barrett and his silent follower traveled to Cherry Blossom Square in the northwest part of town. He didn't look back once, already aware of the person responsible for breaking his solitude and not particularly caring because she didn't say a word. Dorothy was never one for talking, because she could barely manage to greet others as her stutter forced her to clamp her mouth shut in embarrassment. Such a weakness was irrelevant when you kept company with one who refuses to talk unless spoken to, so they were perfectly silent together. When this silence was threatened, Barrett was entirely surprised the culprit was Dorothy.

". . . Barrett . . . ?"

He started, completely caught off guard by her sudden whisper and stiffening at the thought of conversation. He let her hang unanswered for several heartbeats, knowing he was giving her a scare but not yet able to grasp the concept of her starting a conversation, before he finally swallowed the anxious lump in his throat and mumbled a tentative reply. "Yes?" The autumn leaves falling lazily to the ground swirled around them as if to emphasize the momentous event that was happening: Dorothy and Barrett actually attempting conversation.

He heard cloth shifting against cloth beside him, giving away her nervous shuffling, and then she offered more quiet–almost incoherent–words. "I-is . . . is it weird that I . . . d-don't show my face?" The question was given in a way that he knew she wouldn't dislike him if he didn't answer, but it would be a serious blow to her already fragile self-esteem. She had been steadily gaining confidence for a while, after Kyle had first coaxed her name out, but it was teetering dangerously over the edge of inadequacy. One wrong move, and all of her progress would be wasted. He already regretted answering her in the first place, not wanting to be responsible for such a devastating result–he didn't enjoy others' pain.

He struggled for a way to avoid hurting her while simultaneously giving her an honest answer, but the best he could come up with was giving her a question of his own. It was something that had been eating away at him for as long as he could remember, back when they were toddlers and her doll was still fluffy and new. He was curious whether she would answer him or not. "Why do you hide it?"

"I-I . . ." Dorothy stopped, and he assumed she had clammed up once more, but then she surprised him again by struggling to overcome her awkwardness and continue the conversation. She had matured a lot in the past few months. "I-I get nervous . . . if people look me in the eyes."

He glanced over momentarily to see her head bowed, as if she was hiding her face even now, and he found her reasoning bizarre. Having someone stare at you could be unnerving, yes, but keeping eye-contact was proof of the attention you were holding, which was a good thing if he remembered correctly. It was also a display of equality–that might have been her problem. Dorothy's low self-esteem may have caused her to avoid others' gazes because she didn't feel she was worthy of keeping eye-contact, and it could have evolved into a full-blown phobia. Was she really so scared of someone staring at her? He cleared his throat and asked, "Do you really get so scared?"

Her answer was delayed, and when he received it, her tone gave away her shame and embarrassment. "Y-yes . . . I'm afraid." He could only hope her lip wasn't quivering, because at the angle her face was turned from him and with the added protection of her hood and bangs, he couldn't see if she was going to cry. He mentally groaned, not wanting her to cry. _I _don't_ like other people's pain._ She continued quietly, "I-I think someone m-might laugh at me . . ."

"Why would . . ." He stopped, trying to consider her unique situation. She was a reserved individual who was afraid of criticism, and any sign of negativity from people caused her to shy away and withdraw into her protective shell like a turtle. Even something as trivial as finding a smudge on her shirt could lower someone's opinion of her–or so she thought–so she avoided seeing the disapproval in others' eyes by avoiding their gazes altogether. She was cautious with opening her heart to others, and yet . . . where did that leave him? "Are you afraid of . . . _me?_"

She inhaled sharply at the question, letting out a soft, "Oh . . ." He could imagine her biting her lip anxiously as she searched her feelings, and he waited patiently for her response. There was no reason to rush her when he wasn't exactly sure he wanted to hear the answer himself. He didn't know when he started to care about her opinion of him, but it was suddenly apparent that he didn't want her to fear him. He tried to appear relaxed even as he gripped his fists so tightly his nails bit into his palm and waited, patient and reluctant for her response. It wasn't as if he tried to make her feel comfortable around him, but he was suddenly conscious of how indifferent and distant he had been to her–and how she might have taken his actions as disgust or dislike. "I . . . n-not afraid, no . . ."

Barrett gritted his teeth, telling himself to stop even as he questioned her further. "Do you think I'd laugh at you?"

"N-no." He was relieved by her answer, but almost immediately afterward she confused him with a quiet, "W-well, I've never . . . heard you laugh . . ."

He gave a small huff. _Is that the only reason?_ "Do you think I'm that bad of a person?"

Dorothy suddenly whirled around and answered forcefully, startling him with her vigor. "N-_no!_" She then paused, as if she had surprised even herself by her outburst, and the quiet and meek Dorothy he was familiar with was quick to return. "O-of course not . . . I'm sorry if I . . ." She couldn't properly finish her sentence, and she shook her head as if to try to shake away the shyness she was working so hard to overcome.

Still a bit shocked by her shout, Barrett mulled over several things: Her self-esteem issues, her long bangs, her normally quiet voice. All of it covered her in a protective blanket from others, and yet two of those three barriers had been removed as her confidence slowly grew. He felt she still needed assistance in overcoming the last obstacle in her journey towards self-confidence, and that he might hold the key. Swallowing anxiously and blocking out the voice in his head screaming for him to shut his mouth, he studied Dorothy hugging her doll tightly for comfort as she stood nervously before him. He wet his lips in an attempt to make the next words easier to speak, but found it barely helped as he muttered, "Could I . . . see?"

Her arms tightened around the doll, causing it to deflate slightly, and she stuttered in surprise, "See . . . m-my face?" At his confirmation, she made an interesting sound somewhere between a choke and whimper as she contemplated his sudden request. "I-I . . . y-you want . . . see m-my . . ."

Although Barrett was slightly amused by her astonishment, he didn't want to stand there waiting for much longer. Not only was it making him tense uncomfortably, but Kyle was due any moment now to try to talk to him, and he'd rather not have an audience–and neither would she. He cleared his throat softly in hopes she would make her decision and go through with it. Her embarrassed stammers stopped, and for a second he thought she was going to politely refuse his request, but then she raised a shaky hand from her doll to begin slowly lifting her bangs. He hold his breath in anticipation, wondering if there was another darker reason she kept her face covered, but when he could see her entirely he found he was at a loss of what to say. His mouth hung open without a single word to utter, and he found himself staring at her in an improper manner. He would've punched himself if he knew that he was doing it, but the only thing he could think was, _she's not like what I expected._

She quickly grew uncomfortable with his gaze and dropped her hair back down, but for a split-second their eyes had met and held each others' in silence, and it was an immense accomplishment. She bowed her head and hugged her doll again, probably trying to recover from what must have been a frightening experience. Her heart was most likely hammering away in her chest, and he could even see the hot blush creeping onto her face from between strands of hair. He felt his own face heat up, and he quickly turned away to try to hide his own embarrassment as he recuperated from the shock. After nearly a minute of awkward silence stretching between them, Dorothy once again surprised him by breaking it with another tentative question: "I-is it . . . bad?"

"N-no." He mentally scowled at his stutter and cleared his throat to eliminate the weakness in his voice. "No, it's not bad. It's . . . nice." And that was the closest he would allow himself to complimenting her, but it seemed to be enough to make her splutter once more. As she tried and failed to protest to his comment, he closed his eyes and envisioned her face once more in his mind. He was completely blown away by the surprise and had to wonder why she would cover up her face if she looked that pretty. _Her self-esteem still needs working on._ Letting himself sink into thought for a while, he finally interrupted her stammering with one last question. "Am I the only one . . . ?"

She easily figured out what he meant and quietly answered, "Y-yes . . . p-please, don't tell anyone else! I-it . . . it c-could be our secret."

"Our secret," he repeated, mulling over the idea thoughtfully before nodding his head. _It's not as if anyone will ask, anyways . . . but I do enjoy being the only witness._ He tried to ignore the blush that reappeared on his face whenever he thought of what Dorothy looked like behind her bangs, and he ignored Kyle's attempts at conversation when the redhead walked up a few minutes later. He instead focused his attention on the quiet girl beside him, wondering what it would take to get her to show him her face more often.


	4. Affections

_Hm, I wonder what it takes to get a reader to review. I know that I can be lazy sometimes and just read something, but I've been trying to get over that and actually give the author _something_ to look at, even if I can only manage a "good job." What is it that stops other people from reviewing, though? Makes me wonder..._

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Owning a bathhouse was one of the few jobs that included getting very, very wet every single day. It was also one of the few jobs where the customers constantly discarded their clothing in your house. And it was the only job in town where you ran the risk of burning your customers to a crisp with water that was much too hot. So it was only natural for Julia to want to test the waters for her customers to avoid such a terrible accident. She wasn't expecting to experience an accident herself, slipping on the edge and falling into the bath fully clothed, so she was caught by surprise and nearly drowned before dragging herself out of the bath. She glanced down at her clothes and whined, "Ohh, they're totally soaked through! I _have_ to change!" Grabbing a towel and running upstairs, leaving a trail of water on the steps, she quickly began to dry off while searching for something else to wear. Finding a similar outfit and putting it on, she sat on her bed to wait for her hair to dry out–only to hear a tentative voice rising up the stairs.

"Hello! Julia? Where are you?"

_Is that Max? _"Eep!" Rushing to get the water dripping from her hair, she shouted shrilly down the stairs, "Just a minute!" Trying to fix her hair and finding it was useless, she pouted as she imagined walking down to meet the rich man looking as she did. _I look like I–well, fell into a bath!_ Brushing her hair halfheartedly, she journeyed down to see the blond glancing curiously into the men's bath as if to search for her. Moping pitifully, she said with much less enthusiasm than usual, "Welcome."

"Oh, there you are–what happened to _you?_" She flinched at his surprised question, and her face heated up in embarrassment when he reached out to twirl a strand of damp hair between his fingers. "Did you fall in?"

"Yes," she breathed awkwardly, pulling away slightly to free her hair as she awaited his ridicule. "I was testing the water, and I slipped."

He hummed in sympathy. "I'm sorry to hear that. It's just another price you pay for your customers, though, right?" She nodded, a bit surprised by his pity, and jumped when he held out his hand holding his payment. "Well, there's only one thing for me to do here. Here's one hundred gold." Folding her fingers over the money, he smiled charmingly at her blush before turning and entering the men's bath, leaving her to squeal quietly in delight.

_Ooh, how does he _do_ that?_ Giggling and bouncing from foot to foot, she pinched her arm to make sure she wasn't dream. _Why's he got to be so cute and handsome and–ooh!_ Letting herself indulge in her imagination for a while, something nagged her in the back of her mind that made her think she had forgotten something. _What could I . . ._ Patting herself as if looking for her wallet, she eventually realized what was missing when she bent down to adjust her outfit and could only see her hair cascading around her face. "Oh! My cover!" She grabbed her head only to tug a handful of hair, and she rushed up the stairs to tear apart her room for the article of clothing that would perfectly complete her look. "Where did I put it? I thought I . . . oh, no!" She slapped a hand over her mouth when she realized she left it in the men's bath. _Shoot!_ She snuck back down the stairs and pressed her back against the wall, her heart beating so fast she thought it was going to explode. _What should I do, what should I do?_

She was startled out of her deliberation when Max called out from the waters, "Oh, Julia, you forgot something!"

Relieved and terrified at the same time, she asked carefully, "Are you decent?"

There was an indignant snort from just around the corner, making her jump in surprise. "Of course!" He suddenly poked his head around and held out the cover, flashing another charming smile as he advised her, "You should be more careful of where you leave your things." She nodded mutely, blushing furiously when he gently patted her head before returning to his bath, and then she skipped over to place her elbow on the counter and her chin in her palm, sighing longingly. _Oh, Max, do you have any clue what you do to me?_

Deciding to try to dry her hair off once more, she walked upstairs and grabbed the forgotten towel on her bedspread, wrapping her drenched gray tresses and lightly squeezing them to get all of the water out. Her image was very important to her, so she didn't dare let it tangle as she quickly ran a brush through her hair. She was so engrossed with her task that she didn't notice the time flying by, and when she heard the jingling of the front door striking the bell she jumped in surprise. "How long has it been?" Alarmed at the thought of missing customers, she sprinted across the room and spun around to run down the stairs, forgetting the water from her bath accident left on the steps until it was too late. Slipping halfway down, she screamed and closed her eyes, desperately throwing her arms protectively in front of her face. Instead of striking the hardwood floor, however, she ran into something much less painful, and a light grunt alerted Julia that her savior was very much a living being.

Her eyes shot open to see Max looking down at her with an amused grin, and her face turned apple red as she spluttered in embarrassment, apologizing for running into him. He shook his head, pulling her a bit closer before releasing her with a chuckle. "Don't worry about it," he told her, "but make sure to be more careful, alright?" When she nodded meekly, his grin grew a bit more mischievous, and he ruffled the hair she had tried desperately to fix. "There's no need for you to throw yourself onto me–I already know about your affections."

"M-_Max!_" Face turning redder by the second, she fumed in humiliation as he laughed at her fury. "That's not _funny!_" Shouting about manners and how to "properly save a lady," this was how they were found by Max's sister: Embarrassed beyond belief by his comment, and laughing with such glee he was holding his stomach in pain.


	5. Intentions

_Oh, I forgot to mention in previous A/Ns: If any of you who read this have a suggestion, don't be afraid to include it in your review! I always love it when people bounce ideas off of me, and sometimes it makes really great stories. So go ahead! Suggest to your hearts content! (I might even take a few pairing suggestions, or AU pairings like . . . I dunno, Ray/Dorothy or something.)_

**Note: **Direct continuation of _Affections,_ chapter three.

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Sighing in exasperation of the familiar scene, Rosalind asked the furious owner of the bathhouse, "Okay, what did he do this time?" He would always do something to make her mad, and today was no exception.

The gray-haired woman huffed loudly, placing her hands on her hips as she answered shrilly, "He was very rude about how I tripped down the stairs and ran into him, and he's–he's _teasing_ me again!" The seemingly broad statement held another meaning to Rosalind, as the only thing he "teased" Julia about was her crush on him. She had told the rich lady of her feelings for Max, and, thinking she could help, she had let it slip to her brother that "someone really liked him." Of course, being the intelligent person he was, he figured out whom rather quickly, and he hadn't stopped pestering Julia about it since. The glare she gave Rosalind showed that she would never really forgive her for "helping."

She sighed again, already massaging her temples in hopes her oncoming migraine would disappear, and her tone sounded very much like a stern parent. "Max, what have I told you about that?" The demanding stare she gaze him left no room for arguments, and he chuckled nervously as he anticipated the punches in the shoulder he would receive when they returned home. "Come on, you've bothered her enough–aren't you done with your bath yet?" She turned around and beckoned behind her with a stiff wave, waiting for him to follow her before strolling out of the bathhouse and beginning the short walk to their home. After they were well out of Julia's earshot, the scolding began. "I can't believe how immature you are, Max. How old are you now?"

"Rosalind," he rolled his eyes at her irritation, "I'm not entirely sure why you always get so mad at me. It's just a little teasing, is all."

She snapped, "Women are very sensitive about their feelings!" When he didn't seem to feel sorry for his actions, she struck his shoulder for good measure.

"Ow! My shoulder is very sensitive when hit!"

"That's what your teasing feels like to Julia." She scowled. "Imagine getting punched every day for no reason!"

"I don't have to imagine it–ow!"

"There _is_ a reason for it! _Ugh!_" She threw her hands up in frustration as he rubbed his tender arm. "You have no respect for her feelings! You're an absolute jerk, Max!" Speeding up to stomp ahead of him, she fumed silently the rest of the way home. _Never should've told him about it . . . wish I was an only child . . . wish he could see what he was doing!_ Before she could storm into the house, however, he grabbed her shoulder to stop her, and she whipped around and grumbled, "What now?"

His face was strangely serious, making her suspicious and narrow her eyes in wait of the punch line. He let go of her to fold his arms sternly, causing her to raise an eyebrow as he began his argument. "What about the times I've caught you hanging around Ray? You always say you're "on a date." "

Rosalind furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "It's only a little joke, Max. What are you getting at?"

"You mean you don't know?" When her puzzled expression remained, he sighed and turned his head away, closing his eyes in deep thought. Tapping a finger on his forearm for a bit, he slowly collected his thoughts before continuing the conversation. He seemed to have something important on his mind, and the idea that he was seriously considering something startled her. "I don't want to have Ray be angry with me, but I'll tell you this: You're a hypocrite if you harp on me for teasing Julia about her feelings." Dropping his arms to his side and striding calmly past her, he paused in the doorway as he realized something else he had to say. "Oh, and I _do_ respect her feelings, Rosalind. After all, I haven't rejected her, have I?"

As the blond walked in humming a lovely tune, Rosalind, strangely silent, followed him. Through dinner and the rest of the night, all she could think about was her brother's–and Ray's–intentions.


	6. Support

_Another A/N: I have a few chapters already written, so if you made a suggestion but the next update doesn't have it, don't worry! I've got it on queue along with the other chapters; I have a bunch already written and a few ideas ready to be written, so yours might just be at the end of the list. I plan on keeping ahead of the updates in this manner so I always have material I can upload, that way you guys always have something new to read every four or so days. I know what it's like to read a story, then wait two months before it finally updates and you've forgotten everything about it, and while this is a oneshot collection the principle is the same._

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Barrett was not going to admit that he was worried when he didn't get a glimpse of Dorothy all day, but he certainly looked troubled when he stepped into the church an hour before closing time. He hadn't even seen her at the clinic building, so this was his last hope–and he was rewarded when a little redhead gave him one look before shouting up the stairway, "Dorothy, your _boyfriend's_ here!" She added a "told you" for good measure, and giggled as she turned to greet him properly with a cheery wave. "Hiya! I'm guessing you're here to see Dorothy?" There was a time when Cammy was just as wary of him as everyone else, but after Kyle started to have short chats with him at Cherry Blossom Square and she learned of her sister's daily visits, it seemed she abandoned her fear altogether. Feeling wistful as he recalled his days of solitude, he remained silent as the redhead went on, "I'm afraid she's too scared to come down and face you right now, Barrett. She's . . . uh, well . . ."

"What did you do," he asked accusingly, recognizing the telltale signs of guiltiness the little girl held. There were many times she had hid Dorothy's doll from her in anger, and once she even stole it and ran into the forest. It had taken Kyle to convince the girl to come back home and return the doll to her sister, and both Gordon and Byron to scold her for running into a dungeon. Barrett could only imagine what she had done this time.

"I didn't–well, I _did_–she's being ridiculous!" Unable to defend herself, Cammy crossed her arms and huffed, "Okay, I _might_ have decided to cut her bangs in her sleep . . ." When the brunette's eyes widened, she shouted, "Hey, they were really, really long!"

He shook his head, knowing she wouldn't understand the consequences of her actions for many years to come. "I'll leave your father to discipline you," he told her, and he strode to climb the stairs to the second floor as she gave a loud grunt to show her displeasure. Ignoring her for the time being, he stepped swiftly on the groaning steps until he paused before the last one, trying to listen for the quiet woman in hiding. Slowly raising his foot to touch the floor, he winced when it creaked loudly and held his breath as he waited to see if she had heard him.

There was a soft gasp, and he cursed silently as Dorothy called out in fright, "Wh-who's there?" Reluctant to admit that he had been so worried about her that he went looking for her, he refrained from answering and crept closer to her room, trying to be as silent as possible even on the squeaky floorboards. When he was revealed beside her door by another loud sound, there was a squeak and the rustling of bed sheets before she pleaded, "P-please, don't come in!"

Ignoring her plea, Barrett gently pushed the door open and entered the room with smooth strides, finding a rather strange lump underneath the blankets on one of the beds. Wondering whether he should step closer or not, he finally chose to remain where he was and try to coax her out from a distance. "Dorothy." She squeaked in a much higher pitch at the sound of his voice. "Come out."

"N-no, th-thank you," she whispered, her voice shaking in fear and humiliation from her sister's deeds. "I-I don't . . . I don't want . . ."

He took a deep breath and sighed, knowing it was going to take a lot to soothe her irrational fears. "It's only me, Dorothy." He didn't know how much value his presence held, and whether that would help or hurt her self-esteem, but he dearly hoped she would take comfort in his company. _It's not much different than normal, after all. She's simply hiding under a blanket._ He was prepared to combat her uncertainty until she finally came out from underneath the sheets. When she didn't respond for several seconds, he pursed his lips and thought of what else to say to her. ". . . Cammy will be punished. I'm sure she'll come to apologize soon." _Whether she means it or not, though, I can't say._

"I don't . . . she just . . ." She struggled to find the words to express her thoughts, a fight that might never really end. "I . . . want her to learn. I don't . . . I don't like it when she gets in trouble."

Barrett, a bit tired of standing, gave a heavy sigh as he walked over and sat on Cammy's bed, bringing his foot up so he could rest his arm on his knee. "I'm afraid she'll take a few years to learn. She's still young."

"Yeah . . ." Silence crept between them like a sneaky cat, but surprisingly Dorothy drove it away as she took a deep breath before speaking. "How long . . . do you think it'll be before . . ."

"Your bangs grow back?" When he saw the blanket bob up and down with her head, he grimaced as he worked out the numbers in his head. "It . . . might take a few weeks, Dorothy." Her exasperated whimper made him wince in sympathy, and he added, "You won't be able to hide in here for that long."

". . . I know . . ." Her voice revealed how exposed she felt and the indecision that was pulling her between childishly trying to hide or braving the astonishment and comments of the others. It was such a hard decision for her, after all of the confidence she had slowly gained over the years and the doubts she still clung to when walking around Alvarna. He felt the weight of her choice when the sheets ruffled once more, and he was surprised to suddenly see her light green hair poke out from under them as she sat up with her back to him. Taking a shaky breath, she asked him, "You . . . you won't . . . laugh?"

He scowled, offended that she would think of him like that. "Why would I?" Immediately regretting his harsh tone when she clammed up, he cleared his throat and corrected himself, "I won't. Promise." Silently pleading she trusted him enough, he was satisfied when she shifted in her spot to turn around and face him. Her head was initially bowed to hide her face, but after a few seconds and another deep breath she raised her head to glance nervously at him. He knew the way his jaw dropped wasn't reassuring, but he couldn't think logically when he was staring Dorothy in the face.

Shy under his intent gaze, she turned her head to the side and stared at her hand clenching her blanket, looking rather afraid now that she had revealed Cammy's handiwork. "W-will . . . anyone else . . . laugh at me?"

For some reason, he leapt to rid her of her fears as he answered quickly, "No, no one will laugh. In fact . . ." He hesitated, knowing how stupid he was going to sound but willing to make himself look like an idiot if it helped calm her down, and his voice dropped to just above a whisper as his face heated up in his awkwardness. "I think they'll be pleasantly surprised. You look . . . pretty." _And I can't believe I just admitted that. Next thing I know, I'll tell her I was worried!_ The thought cowed him into dropping his gaze to the floor, not wanting her pretty face to convince him to confess all of his secrets.

Dorothy held her breath at his declaration, probably shocked into silence by his words. _After all, you don't take compliments very well, do you? Stuttering embarrassingly and mumbling incoherent sentences . . . do you know how to accept praise?_ Barrett wondered why she was so doubtful of her talents and appearance, and he searched for something to reassure her as they sat quietly in the bedroom. Gordon's voice rumbled up the stairs, admonishing Cammy no doubt about her thoughtless actions with one of his booming lectures about life, and so they listened to the highs and lows of his voice as if it was a song. It took many minutes before Barrett decided upon the words he was going to use, and a few more to get the courage to say them aloud. He lifted his gaze from the floor to watch her nervous fidgeting and sighed quietly in resignation. _If I don't look stupid after saying _this_, I _never_ will._

". . . Alright. I'll make you a deal." He knew he had her attention when her eyes flickered to him shyly, and he swallowed his hesitation as he explained, "If you promise not to hide here for the next month . . . then I'll escort you around Alvarna and make _sure_ no one will say anything." He tried to convey his sincerity in his tone as he watched her mull over his suggestion. "Sound good?"

". . . I . . ." Suddenly becoming rather bashful, she hugged the doll that had been sitting in her lap the entire time for support–funny, he hadn't noticed it until now. "Ah . . . Fern . . . says it's a good idea. That I might need a bodyguard . . . with my pretty face–_Fern!_" She squeezed the doll, her stutter growing worse as if she hadn't expected her stuffed animal to say such a thing. "W-why would you–that wasn't–_Fern!_"

Barrett coughed to cover up the chuckle that snuck up on him at the bizarre exchange. _It's a childish thing to hold onto, but I think I might like that doll._


	7. Remember

_Just wondering, does anyone who play RF2, or even the original which I have yet to play, ever like to imagine some alternate pairings for fun? I couldn't help but think of some Ray/Dorothy, even though I know both of them pine over their default marriages too much to notice each other without leaving canon. Still, I was thinking of doing some AU pairings, or even just AU in general, and I wanted to know what you guys thought. After all, their world is pretty strange and exciting without needing to AU it, but . . . I dunno. Please add in your thoughts when/if you leave a review._

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"Ah, what a beautiful day!" Aria laughed cheerfully as she ran down the dock, her leather sandals slapping against the wooden planks with loud _clacks._ Indeed, that summer day wasn't as hot as the last few were, thankfully, so it wasn't hard for her to convince Roy to follow her around after school. He hadn't expected going to the ocean, however, and he certainly wasn't prepared for the fishing pole she nearly clobbered him with as she was taking it out of her backpack. "Oops, sorry, Roy!"

"Aw, you're going _fishing?_" He made a face at the idea, informing her exactly his views on the sport. "It's so boring! You just sit around waiting for something to bite the hook!" Even so, he settled down beside her reluctantly, making sure his expression displayed just how annoyed he was. "Can't we go play or something?"

"No way!" She threw a very energetic cast and gave him a playful wink, explaining, "I haven't been fishing in forever! I'm not passing this up for anything!"

Roy pouted. "Not even ice cream?"

"Not even." At his scandalized gasp, she giggled and shoved him lightly with her shoulder. "_You_ can go get some, if you want! You don't _have_ to stay . . ." When he waved away her offer, she shrugged and turned to the water, mumbling, "Suit yourself." Silence fell between the two of them, one that Roy didn't feel comfortable in, and he fidgeted anxiously as he watched the bobber in boredom. No matter how many times he tried counting down to one, nothing took the bait, and he started to count the waves crashing into the dock to try to pass the time a bit more smoothly. He was almost tempted to pretend he had something important to do and run off, but then Aria spoke up and surprised him into staying. "You know, my father really liked fishing."

"Your dad?" At her nod, he looked out over the water and recalled the many times he had caught the man standing on the docks himself, casting for shrimp and sardines with an expert flick of the wrist. "Yeah, Kyle did like to come out here a lot. Once he accidentally hooked Alicia's hat! She got _so_ mad at him!"

"Yeah, he told me he had gotten chewed out because of that." Aria smiled at the thought, although she had been too young at the time to remember–only two-years-old, if he remembered correctly. It was weird remembering how much older he was than her, especially since they seemed to have become the best of friends. "Hopefully I won't be as dangerous while fishing!"

"I hope not," he muttered, "since I'm the closest target." He sniggered when she shoved him again, and the silence they fell into this time was a lot more comfortable for him as he remembered many other times he had caught Kyle with a fishing rod in hand. It seemed that when he wasn't taming monsters, tilling his land and socializing with the others, he was finding a peaceful place where he could enjoy nature and reap the spoils of the water. He had won the fishing contest with ease, and to be honest, no one had been surprised–not even Barrett. Sitting in a place he would normally find Kyle made Roy miss the guy, since he had become an older brother to him, and he wondered where he was now. _Is he fishing in some far off place? Or is he fighting off something much more powerful than fish?_

He glanced at his companion only to notice a small frown on her face, and her glazed eyes indicated she was reminiscing, too. Realizing she missed her father as much as he did, he placed a hand on her shoulder and lightly shook her out of her memories, asking, "Hey, are you okay?" He was worried that she was going to start crying, and he didn't know how to deal with her if she did–he hadn't seen her cry yet.

". . . Hm? Oh, I'm fine." Seeing his doubtful expression, Aria smiled reassuringly and patted his hand. "Really, I'm fine. I was just–oh!" She jumped at the sudden tug on her fishing pole, and she shouted, "A fish!"

She leapt to her feet and started to pull, and he felt compelled to do the same and help her reel in a rather big sardine (for her age). "Oh, wow! Nice job, Aria!" Waiting as she eagerly wrapped up the fish to sell later, he grinned when she did and gave her an excited high-five. "It only took you half of forever!"

"Oh, stop your whining!" She sat back down and smiled cheerfully, telling him, "I've still got a lot of fish to catch!" She laughed at his groan and tugged him back down, nudging his shoulder with hers before inquiring curiously, "Do . . . _you_ wanna try?"

"Uh . . ." He made a face at the thought of sitting in wait for hours, but her hopeful expression caused him to cave in as he finally nodded in reply. She excitedly handed him the pole, and so they took turns pulling fish out of the salty water until the sun touched the horizon. Roy still didn't like fishing, but he would bear with it if he was with Aria.


	8. Friends

Cecilia still remembered the day she had arrived in Alvarna as if it were yesterday.

"Good afternoon, sir." She had curtsied politely before the mayor as she was taught to, and in return she received a warm smile and kind words of greeting. She did the same with all of the other villagers, not wishing to make them feel unimportant compared to Byron, and so she quickly made friends with an adorable girl with long dark hair named Mana. After being told to call her by her name, she smiled happily and replied, "Then you can call me Ceci."

"Ooh, what a cute nickname!" Squealing with glee at the half-elf, she motioned over to a rather intimidating looking man and said, "Dad, Dad, this is Cecilia, my new friend!" After getting her father's approval, she daintily grabbed Cecilia's hand and tugged lightly, saying, "Let me introduce you to my other friend, Alicia! She's really cool, but sometimes she can be weird. She likes to dress up funny, too, but she looks cute so it's okay."

The redhead giggled at her friend's babbling and let herself be towed to the harbor, and she immediately noticed a woman standing off to the side with a bizarre purple outfit on. An oversized witch hat perched on her head like a tower that threatened to fall at any moment, her top was little more than a bikini with sleeves and her stomach was exposed to the sun's rays as she eyed the people approaching her with interest. Cecilia was surprised when Mana stopped in front of the stranger and waved happily, and then told the newcomer, "Ceci, this is Alicia. Alicia, say hello to Cecilia! She's new to town, so go easy on her!"

Cecilia looked at the tall woman uneasily, wondering if she was going to be scary or mean because she was new. She didn't want to think such unfair thoughts about someone she hardly knew, but that outfit was . . . just so intimidating! Thankfully, though, the first words out of Alicia's mouth were: "Oh, Ceci! What a cute nickname." She extended her hand for an elegant handshake, explaining, "Hi, I'm Alicia, Alvarna's one and only fortune-teller! I predict we'll be great friends." The wink she gave Cecilia made her unsure whether she meant her words or not, but it was friendly and playful and put her at ease all the same. They hit it off almost immediately, and they became the girl trio that hung out whenever their jobs weren't in the way.

Now, on the first day of summer, they were relaxing just north of town and talking about whether they should go for a dip. "It's certainly hot enough to swim," added Cecilia, eyeing the harsh sun overhead and squinting against the bright light.

"You two can go swimming," the fortune-teller declared, waving a hand in an indifferent gesture. "I don't want to lose my hat in case a giant wave hit me!"

Mana giggled. "That's why you take it _off_, silly!"

"But then where would I put it?"

As the debate continued, Kyle eventually walked by their group and stopped for a moment to listen in. "Are you guys arguing about whether to swim?"

The dark-haired girl giggled at his curiosity, face turning an interesting shade of pink. "Yep! Alicia's being no fun."

"Oh, please!" Alicia placed her hands mock-arrogantly on her hips, explaining, "If I go into the water, I'll grab all of the boys' attention away from you two! Isn't that right, Kyle?"

"I-I, err, I don't think . . ." The girls all smiled as the farmer grew nervous at the prodding, and he avoided their gazes by glancing at the sky. "Uh, lovely weather we're having!"

Mana laughed. "No, it's not! It's so hot! That's why we want to swim, _Alicia._"

"Don't blame me that I'm worried about your reputations! I don't want to steal _all_ of your dates!"

Cecilia's laughter was quiet yet refreshing, and she told the older woman, "You shouldn't tell such big fibs, Alicia."

The fortune-teller scoffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "My fortunes never lie! And they say I'm going to go on a date if I go swimming! Isn't that right, Kyle?"

"Wh-what?"

"Alicia! Don't joke about that!"

"Oh, don't get _too_ jealous!"

"Stop antagonizing Mana, Alicia."

"What, do _you_ want to go on a date too, Ceci?"

"Alicia!"

"_Alicia!_"

"Alright, alright, I'll quit!" Turning to the redhead almost forgotten in their light squabble, the periwinkle-haired fortune-teller hummed in thought before starting, "Now, _tomorrow's_ weather will be sunny, too . . . do you think it'll be hot enough to go swimming?"

Kyle frowned, wondering why she was asking him when _she_ told the fortunes. "Um, yes?"

Alicia's sly smile returned, and she purred, "So I'll be getting a date _tomorrow!_"

"_Alicia!_"

"Teehee, thanks for your business, Kyle! Come again soon!" As the redhead shook his head and left the girls to their chatter, the fortune-teller's laughter rang out the loudest to cover up Cecilia's quiet giggling. _I love being with Mana and Alicia! They're my best friends._


End file.
